


Swollen

by HadesWings



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 15:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4752029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HadesWings/pseuds/HadesWings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stick felt heavy in his hand, but it was minuscule to the amount of confusion, anger, and fear that swirled inside him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swollen

**Author's Note:**

> I want to be clear and direct when I say that this work will be sad as well as happy. I have tagged it so far, and I will tag it as I go along. If you see anything in the tags that you do not like. **STOP** , Press the little left arrow icon on whatever browser you are using, and pick a different story. I promise, if you stay, that it is worth the story. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Attack On Titan or it's characters.

The world is cruel, but it is also very beautiful.

Mikasa had told me that long ago and I wanted to believe her, I wanted to believe that the world had some shred of beauty hidden within the mass of pain and suffering. 

But as my trembling hands hold the small little weightless stick; the only thing that I can say is that the world is terribly cruel, and there is nothing beautiful in it.

Everywhere that he had touched suddenly rekindles in a burning fire, right underneath my skin. My insides feel fucked up and jumbled, stained and scarred. I feel _tainted_. 

And it all drives me mad. Insane. Furious. 

I’d stayed in the tub for _hours_ scrubbing and scratching the scent off of me, my nails raking up and down my body, forming thin, red, parallel lines going every which way across my limbs. I’d tugged on my hair and covered my ears in a vain attempt to block out the thoughts, the noises, the memories of what had happened. I’d stood painfully under scalding hot water as it washed away the dried blood and caked semen that coated my inner thighs. 

But _nothing_ was enough.

I still feel him, on me, in me, fucking me and it makes my inner Alpha snarl and howl with rage, It makes me want to bang my head against the tiled wall, to snap the stupid test that I still held tightly in my hand in half, but more importantly it wants me to find the threat and rip it to shreds. 

I want to think that this is some twisted sick joke. That I can just sleep this off and everything will be alright, I’ll wake up in the morning to Mikasa making breakfast and I can put it all behind me. 

But I know it’s real. 

I glare at myself in the mirror, peeling my lips back and snarling at my reflection. At the weak Alpha presented before me. And before I can reason with myself, my clenched fist slams into the glass, shattering it, and breaking the image. 

I yell in pain and anger as I wail on the broken cabinet, I keep thrashing and punching until I can’t see myself, and all I can see is the red, dark red, trailing down my numb finger tips and dripping, dripping off my limp hand.

The door bursts open and I stare blearily up at the intruder, growling deep in my throat at the Alpha that had broken into my territory, my space. 

I see raven hair, raven, dark, raven hair and my heart hammers wildly, fear, anger, and hate broil in my blood. Pounds through my brain. And I’m backing away, smearing my blood on the floor, crawling back until my back hits the wall.

“E-Eren!” They scream loudly, staring down at the scene before them with wide eyes, blown in horror. The Alpha stares down at me, with tears filling her grey eyes as she rushes to the broken cabinet that I had tore apart and reaches inside carefully to grab our first aid kit. 

She slowly and tentatively reaches down for me and I flinch back and snarl at her but she continues to reach forward, running a soothing hand against my cheek. 

“Shh, Eren, it’s okay. I’m here. Calm down. It’s me. Mikasa,” She coos silently. “I’m not going to hurt you. Calm down.” 

Mikasa. The name snaps me somewhat out of my stupor and I stare doe-eyed at her, tears brimming and blurring my vision. 

“Shh, I know. It’s going to be alright,” She continues, pulling my head against her chest. And for the first time, since my mother had died, I relent and I sob pathetically against her, the stick still clutched tightly in my fist. I wail loudly because nothing is alright. 

Everything is wrong, broken and _cruel_. The world is _nothing_ but cruel.


End file.
